Mouse picks his chin up in her ungloved hand, making him look up at her again, and speaks sharply. "Listen to me. Say no if you don't want something. I will /not/ have your first scene be a bad memory for you." Her expression softens a little bit. "Promise me?"

(Honestly a lot of the women in my class sucked at it. I think it'd get you in shape all by itself if you did it enough. At least that's the plan~. And it's not a lot of cardio. ...but don't throw up.)

Mitz blinks at her and tries not to really think about the thrill that shoots down to - well. He doesn't think about it. "Yes," he says quietly, then tries again. "Yes, I promise, I will. Only. I just meant that I won't say no to you randomly, I mean, without saying red or whatever. I just - I probably won't. Sorry."

(mmm I shall think about it. It's kind of something that only people who are already in shape do in this town? Like yoga. It's for in-shape-skinny chicks who want to stay in-shape-skinny. So it's tough to go in all "Hi I have a bunch of flab please don't look at it aaaaaaaaa")

Mouse sighs. "Okay. So long as you communicate, all right? And I'll go slow." She looks at the equipment that's available - pretty much only the rig is taken up, it's so slow tonight - and picks up the cuffs. "Are you ready to start?"

(Oh blah that sucks. I wish you could come over here. Full of old flabby people who're horrible at it, you could feel awesome.)

"Yeah," he says, after licking his lips and really thinking about this. He actually likes the weird nervous high he's on right now. He has no idea what's coming up next, not really. He nods, decisive. "I'm ready when you are."

(I would be all COME TO ME MY PEOPLE WE SHALL CONQUER THIS LAND OF FLAB IN THE NAME OF FITNESS and it'll be awesome.)

Mouse watches his tongue flick out - she is going to keep that memory for later, that's for sure - and then breaks into a grin. "That's the first thing you've sounded sure of all night," she tells him. "Good boy." She takes his hand in her gloved one, letting the points dig lightly into his skin, and buckles the cuff around his wrist. She does the same to his other hand, and then clips the cuffs together. Bound like that is a good look on him, she decides. What she wouldn't give to put a collar on him too... later. She smiles as she stands up, holding the short chain between his wrists. "Come on, then."

Mitz stares at his hands, then at Mouse and stands obediently. There's no thought to doing anything otherwise. "Yes." He pauses, and clicks his tongue thoughtfully. "Should I use your name? Is that allowed?"

(Game of Gym Thrones. It would be awesome. ....even though people would die a lot. NO FITNESS WITHOUT PAIN. THE COACHES ARE COMING.)

"Oh you're /good/," Mouse breathes. "My name's fine for now. We'll talk about titles later." She tugs on the chain a little, bringing Mitz along with her as she walks. "I'm going to tie you to that bench. That okay?"

(I DON'T WANT TO DIE. at this studio it would probably be a death by drowning in glitter.)(also bed soon~)

He /blushes/. In addition to everything else, he blushes. Mouse may just not ever let him out of the cuffs. "Good." She leads him to the spanking bench. "Lie down," she says, gesturing to it. "Facedown, knees on the pads, just let your arms hang down in front of you. I want you to be comfortable while you're writhing in pain."

(I guess I can handle having the most fabulous obituary ever.(surprise morning! ...no, you won't. It's okay. Sleep someday, please.)

Mitz sort of - chokes on a laugh and does what Mouse says. He doesn't really think this is happening, to be honest. He's probably just having a really detailed, slightly lucid wet dream. Wouldn't be the first time, since lurking around in forums.

(We'll make sure to put glitter butterflies on the stone, too. I will eventually. I plan on curling up with Red Son at some point before sleeping, it's going to be good.)

Mouse pats him on the shoulder and snaps the cuffs to a tie-point at the front of the bench. "There. Got you now," she says. She rubs his shoulder gently, tracing her way down to the hem of his shirt - then she reaches up under it with her gloved hand, letting the points bite into the bare skin of his back.

(Dammit Mouse you forgot to take his shirt off.)(/awesome/.)(That sounds pleasant. ...also bed after next reply.)

Mitz tenses, sucking in a breath, but relaxes almost instantly. Okay. He's okay with this. The only issue he has is that he can't see Mouse and that's a little upsetting, but he'll handle it. "Uh," he says, quietly so she can ignore him if she wants. "Would you mind if you - kept talking to me, please?" Just in case. He doesn't think Mouse would up and leave and give him to someone else but - he's paranoid okay, sh.

(Silly creature, tsk. yesss I shall make arrangements. But seriously don't die though you are my only Freo. You can be sparkly in life~Okaaaaaaaaaay I guess)

Mouse drags her hand slowly down his back, not pressing too hard, but not leaving it light, either. She can feel his breath hitching, his muscles shifting under her hand. "All right," she says slowly, "I can talk. What do you want me to say? Want me to tell you about everything I'm gonna do to you?" she asks, and wraps her hand around his side, digging into his ribs. "Or everything I /want/ to? That's a way scarier list."

(maybe he's not too attached to this one?::covers self in glitter eyeshadow::goodniiiiiiight I hope you sleep someday or have good food or whatever creature comfort it is you require next. <3<3)

Mitz laughs, breathlessly. "First off? I can't believe I just met you. Okay," he takes another breath and thinks. "Um. Anything you would like to talk about, I guess. I don't mind. I really don't. I just - I think I might be developing an unhealthy attachment to those gloves."

(He can not be Yes gooooodOkaaaay I think it might be sleep? I don't know. I just turned on Felicia Day's bookclub thing so it might not be that. Hurm. GOODNIGHT THE FREO sleep good and I hope your arms work sooooooon <333)

"That's the idea, yeah," Mouse says, grinning. He sounds so happy to be here. She loves that. "Okay, I'm just gonna get your shirt off, here." She drags both her hands up his back, under his shirt, rucking it up to his chest. "I need to see your skin if I'm gonna tear it up." She's already left red marks down his back and spine, and the sight of it makes her breath come just a little faster. Maybe he'll let her make him bleed, too.

Mitz shivers at the thought of being torn up. That's probably not healthy, but it feels good and that doesn't happen to Mitz very often. He rolls with it. "Okay," he says. "Uh. You want me to take it off properly?" And /that's/ new, at least for him. It's shocking, actually, how okay he is with taking his shirt off. In public, no less.

(It's pretty okay! http://vaginalfantasy.com/ It's cute. Mostly I just want to start using google hangouts whenever I watch it, though? But the people I know who are into Skype and suchlike are super paranoid about google things so, ff.)

Mouse walks her fingers up his ribs. That shiver, that's nice. He liked the thought of being torn up. Oh good lord, she could get addicted to this one. "Yeah, if you don't mind." Though she's interested to find out how he's going to do it, tied up as he is.

(It's silly to be paranoid of Google, Google loves us. [No seriously I take the stance that Google already knows so much crap giving it a few more datapoints isn't going to make a difference.] But aw, that is cute.)

He has to wiggle a lot, and use his teeth once he gets enough cloth up to his neck, but he manages to pull the shirt over his head and down around his arms. It takes a while and it's probably not pretty to watch. But he does manage it.

(Yeah, that's kind of how I go about things as well. Not to mention, I'm kind of insignificant to google's eyes, let's face it. Also? Their products and services are just plain better.)

Mouse gives him only just enough space to work, keeping her hands on his hips so he won't think she's left him. "Not bad," she says, when he's done. "You're dedicated, I'll give you that." She traces her fingers over his exposed shoulders, digging her nails hard into his skin. "You could've just asked me to do it."

Mitz hisses and arches as much as he can manage. "Thank you," he says, breathless and quiet. And he's not even sure if he's thanking her for letting that be a good answer, or for what she's doing to him right now. But she should definitely be thanked.

Mouse positively growls at that, deep and low and right next to Mitz's ear. "You are /brilliant/," she says, and sinks her teeth into his shoulder. Deep enough to leave a mark, she thinks, and she follows it up with another sudden scratch at his ribs.

Mitz /nearly/ cries out; he wasn't expecting that kind of sharp pain, but he really wasn't expecting it to - ahem, get to him to much. He whines, trying not to jerk away on instinct, trying not to squirm when Mouse scratches at him. It feels like it's too much and not enough at the same time.

Mouse slaps him once more for good measure. "/Good/." The scratches she leaves, this time, are crossed with the marks already on Mitz's skin. Just a little more of that, and she'll get to see him bleed.

Mitz jerks, slightly, when he's slapped but he takes the second he has between scratches to sag into the bench. He's sore. Really sore. It feels like me might be bleeding - which is not an unwelcome thought. Should he ask? No. If he's not bleeding then it'll look really wimpy. Mouse'll tell him, anyway, right? Probably.

He squirms around happily, making a small humming noise in his head. His whole torso is warm and it's /good/ and he's not even sure if he wants to pay attention to the erection he's been sporting for the last few moments or whether he wants to curl up and sleep contentedly.

As responsive as Mitz is being, Mouse decides just to see how much she can do with what she's got. The scratches get deeper, slower, as she tries to split skin. And she tries to keep his attention, too - telling him how pretty he is while she slices him open, hitting him when he seems ready to zone out. "You're going to have marks," she warns him. "Probably for a while."

"That's okay," Mitz says, his voice shaking but the words staying away from his usual stuttering and stammering. "I wouldn't mind marks. Is - it's okay that I want them?" Because he does. It'll be nice, actually, to go home and have proof that he felt good for a little while, that he met someone like Mouse.

Mouse hisses through her teeth. "Oh, sweetheart, you're killing me here." She drags her nails lightly down his arm as she speaks. No one's ever asked her to leave visible marks before. But for a first time... that's a bit intense. She grabs his hair and drags his head up, kissing his cheek lightly. "Maybe if you're /very/ good."

She'll leave a solid mark, something simple, maybe on his wrist. But she's pretty sure she can make him /think/ she's leaving scratches all over him. Enough, for now. She lets his head down, gently, pats his hair, and bends over to bite a new bruise into his shoulder.

(Want to skip to the end-ish of the scene, maybe? I think that's up to Mitz; Mouse'll call it off if he does, or if it seems like he's in real distress, or I suppose if he starts humping the bench.)(OH GOD YOU GUYS I HAVE POWER BACK ::hugs the electricity:: ::sizzles:: ::happily:: )

After a little more time spent getting his back torn (which is what it feels like, anyway), Mitz is panting and shivering underneath Mouse. He kind of doesn't want it to end and words are - scarce. Difficult to pick it right ones, at any rate. His moans, even, have turned more into shaky hisses under his breath and soft exhales.

One thing is kind of bothering him, though, and he feels like it shouldn't? But it is. Damned boner. That'll be embarrassing when he stands up. Great. Mitz had never really understood why people complained so much about 'buzz killers' until now. Mouse scratches down his spine again and his erection goes from kind of worrying, potentially, future-dignity-speaking to pretty goddamned urgent okay. He licks his lips and tries to talk.

"I - um. Could we --" he breathes for a second, and shakes his head. "Mm. Uh. Red."

(I hope that is okay I had no idea how to stop this anyone I have been with were kind of gluttons for punishment so I have always finished things, or close enough, aaaaaaughHURRAY POWER HELLO POWER THANK YOU FOR COMING BACK)

Mouse is in the kind of daze where she could keep doing this forever, dragging moans and hisses out of Mitz's perfect mouth, but the moment he says 'red' she snaps back to herself. She pats him gently on the back, and strokes his hair while she unclips the cuffs from the bench. "Okay, I hear you, we're stopping. You all right? Talk to me."

(I find this hilarious. Also clearly that means you need to come over and hang out, I am the mouthiest of subs. Also also, that is fine, well done. XD)(ELECTRICITY MY TRUE LOVE NEVER LEAVE ME AGAIN)

Mitz doesn't raise himself from the bench /just/ yet. He laughs quietly at Mouse's concern - or, not /at/ it but, wait. Sigh. You know what he means. "I'm awesome," he tells her, seriously, but grinning. "I'm awesome. I just - I need to stop for a second, I'm sorry."

Mouse strokes his hair gently, and the knot of fear that'd tied itself in her chest when he safeworded begins to loosen. He was just done, that's all, it's okay. And he still looks happy. "That's fine. Do you just want to sit here for a little bit, or do you want to go to the couch?"

"Mm," he says, distant and pushing into Mouse's hand a little. He's still breathing a little faster, but he's slightly better. "I'm. Heh. Okay, no, I should probably stay here for a second or two. I'm, I'm good, I just. Yeah."

(Snort. I don't know, that would be kind of hilarious and adorable to watch but I'm so just to the quiet ones. THAT BEING SAID I have never played with any toys apart from a whip /once/ so my experiences would have probably been different if I had. ship it 4 lyfe)

"Okay, that's cool. Is this okay?" She scratches his head a little, just gently, with the pads of her fingers. "Do you need anything? Water?" She's going to have to get him cleaned up in a minute. But in a minute. When his head's a bit clearer and he can walk.

(I feel like you and my Arrogant Bastard need to get acquainted.)(wooooooo)

"Everything's fine," Mitz replies, tilting his head up at her and still smiling a little. Reassuring her. "What you're doing, me, everything. Everything's fine. I should -" he licks his lips, frowning slightly. "I. Is there anything I can do for you? I mean. Was I - was that okay?"